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A mother surrenders to herself

A mother surrenders to herself, incest sex stories, I’m not gonna go through the nonsense about this being a true story or not. All I can say is it’s a personal story that means a lot to me and after long consideration I’ve decided to share it with others who are like minded. This isn’t a porno in writing. This is about love and lovemaking in what we are raised to believe is the worst of places to find it. I’m still a bit mixed up about it so maybe I’m looking for support. Either way I hope you enjoy reading it and your comments are more than welcome.,Charlene’s eyes flickered open to the first rays of light creeping into her bedroom window through the sits of venetian blinds. Half asleep she shifted under the covers to the feel of the linen caressing her naked skin and suddenly, as if woken from a dream, a reality that should have only been a dream sank into her mind with unerring accuracy. Slowly as if to prepare herself for some horror or delight, she rolled her head to the side to see the young man still deeply asleep beside her. His adolescent clean skin gave a neat glow in the morning light and his unkempt hair was strewn along the pillow he laid his head on. ,“Oh God…” She whispered almost inaudibly before closing her hands over her mouth in an afterthought to not make a sound. Charlene lay trying not to move; trying not to breath for fear that any stir might awaken her son David and force what she had done into an even more terrifying reality than was already causing her such distress. As she looked him over, her heart and her mind tangled with deeper more primal senses inside her, battling internally as to what had been her greater sin only hours earlier; what she had done, or the fact that even now she couldn’t help but need it to happen again. As she struggled with an internal frenzy her mind played the deeds of the last twenty four hours back in full color high definition. ,Saturday morning…,Slipping off her pajamas and laying them out across her dresser, Charlene customarily stood in front of an antique mirror in the corner of her room and looked herself over. She turned from side to side, checking all available angles. She patted her flat stomach approvingly and smiled to herself. At the middle age of forty and one failed marriage under her belt, Charlene prided herself in keeping in shape where so many of her friends had begun to slide. Her divorce had left her with a struggling self esteem that she worked hard to gingerly mend by staying healthy. Her husband had traded her for a younger model; a blow that had made her think a lot about competing with more slender and curvy competition out there. Still in spite of her condition these days, she had discovered the dating game to be one for the young. The occasional man who had been caught by her presence had proven little more that a one night stand upon discovering that Charlene was also a mother. Few were willing to accept that extra baggage and she had all but resigned herself to being the target of a ‘hit it and quit it’ romp. ,Nevertheless, as she admired the reflection before her she still was satisfied with what she saw. Charlene was a taller woman than most of her friends, measuring in at 5’10. Being mid January, her skin had lost all of its summer glow from tanning but adorned her body tightly, and in tandem with her less than naturally bright red hair and deep sea green eyes, she had the look of the hot Irish women she had heard men discuss fondly, though being a naturally blond woman from the eastern seaboard, nothing could have been further from the truth. Her figure was toned and fit; the product of several years since she had first taken an interest in yoga and jogging at the recommendation of friends and her bottom and sculpted thighs were a tribute to how hard she had worked at both. Charlene prided herself greatly on being able to fit comfortably in jeans that didn’t bear any labels that said relaxed fit. As years had gone by she had become less and less satisfied with her breasts. They had lost some of their youthful firmness and bounce, but nothing that wasn’t fixable with the right bra and excellent posture and where their contour had begun to slack, their size had always caused men to believe that they were less important than her face. It didn’t bother her much and her wardrobe was abundant in low cut tank tops to give notice to her cleavage.,Abandoning her ritual morning vanity at last, Charlene rounded her bed towards her closet to fetch suitable running attire, winding her long hair into a pony tail as she rifled through her shirts. After sliding her shorts up her legs she was about to make her way from her room when a shiny reflection caught her eye. Out of her window and down the lawn, her son David’s car shined brightly in the morning sunlight. Charlene cocked her head, eyeing the car with curiosity. At 18, her son was a social young man and very active to say the least. It was uncommon, even in winter for her to awaken on a Saturday to anything but an empty house, even as early as it was. Be that as it was, the 2003 Trans Am gleamed pearlescent silver in the sunlight. Thinking little more of it, Charlene sat on the edge of her bed, slipped her running shoes on and made her way into the hallway towards the bathroom for morning necessities before she hit the road. ,Passing her son’s room she took stock of the fact that the door was open but David was not to be seen. It wasn’t until she approached the bathroom door at the end of the hall nearest the stairs that Charlene paused to the subtlest of foreign sounds. The faintest hint of the electric hum given off by the downstairs television hissed in the air. Charlene paused again; this was uncommon. David wasn’t much of a TV fan. In fact he rarely spent any time in front of it. He was more the outdoorsy sort and was always much happier to get out of the house with friends first thing than waste his time on a couch. Charlene had always attributed this quality to her son’s many successes. Unlike many of the boys his age who would have been happy to spend an entire day with a videogame if left to their own devices, David got out, did well in school and had a booming social life. Everyone in the neighborhood commented on him and praised Charlene for her successes as a single parent. Venturing into the more bizarre, while she was certain the television was on, she couldn’t hear anything coming out of it. Deciding that nothing could really be as strange about the situation as she was building up in her head, Charlene tended to her morning needs in the bathroom and started to make her way down the stairs.,“Oh shit…” Came a soft but forceful whisper as Charlene looked up from her feet and into the back of the living room only to nearly fall right down the remaining stairs as she stopped dead in her tracks. The large flat screen at the other end of the room was indeed on and the screen was graced by a young man relentlessly taking an older woman from behind with all the intensity he could muster while a younger girl more the man’s age lay beneath the other two, happily lapping at the man’s testicles with her out stretched tongue. Though despite the fact that the porno no doubt had audio of the women screaming in pleasure, the television itself was muted silent. The only other motion in the room drew Charlene’s eyes from the screen to the sofa where her son David sat, clearly oblivious to her presence as his hand flashed rapidly up and down the shaft of the largest cock Charlene could ever remember gazing upon. Other than a pair of open jeans, David sat staring at the screen unclothed. His chest and forehead were damp with perspiration. His dark hair was still the tangled mess it had been when he had rolled out of bed that morning and gave him a bit of a wild, bad boy look. His slender lips were apart, quietly breathing hard but Charlene barely was able to take notice of these characteristics. Clutched in David’s hand was a cock that Charlene felt instantly certain any woman could have been able to stack two hands, top to bottom along the stalk, and still have more sticking out the top. Moreover, her son was a man with larger hands than most and even as one tugged along the monstrosity erected from his jeans, even he was barely capable of closing his fingers completely around the thickness. ,Pages: First -1 – 2 – 3 – … – Next → – Last


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